"Twelve of the crew began the inspection. Chief Engineer Medford was watching from a port. All of a sudden one of the boys flipped back an arm like something had hit him with a ball bat. It just hung straight out. Then pretty soon another guy who was bending down on his knees to look below a tube straightened out and shot up nearly sixty feet to the top of the Queen's center deck."
"The joint counterbalances gave way!"
"You guessed it. In less than five minutes every one of those boys was spread-eagled and laid out over the landscape like gingerbread men. Some were still standing, but most were lying on their back and couldn't move a muscle. There has probably not been such a concentration of profound profanity in a location of like area since the beginning of space flight."
"I'm sure we can find —"
"Listen! Do you know how they got back into the ship?"
"I suppose they sent out some more men and hauled them back in."
"That's what Medford thought he was going to do. He sent out three more to attach lines and haul the others in. They got four hooked up and then they were laid out like a cooky cutter had run over them. Four for three — it wasn't a good deal. They still had eleven men to go. Medford tried one more and he only got one hooked up before his suit spread out on him and left him standing there."
"Well — how did they get back in?"
"They didn't. They're still there."
Kimberly sat back in his chair with a fishlike gulp. "Henry, you don't mean — When was — When did this happen?"